


Give This a Better Title

by miraclemusical



Series: The Many Shenanigans of an Easily Bored Reader [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Amanda is totally out of place while you just dgaf, Bad Flirting, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Choking Kink, Dark Humor, F/F, F/M, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I promise it was intentional I have a small thing for it later, Meant for this to be short oh well, Reader is a spontaneous idiot tbh, Shameless Smut, The Jake Park/Reader is just a casual fwb thing bc you were bored and he just doesn't care, This is honestly paced weirdly I sincerely apologize, You watch Nea and Claudette fuck btw bc you're sick like that, no beta we die like men, or does he?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 11:24:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19250215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraclemusical/pseuds/miraclemusical
Summary: Reader is bored and does weird (and kinda selfish) things because she is.





	Give This a Better Title

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. My first DBD fanfic is just me thirsting over Amanda Young. Disclaimer I literally spent all night and morning trying to write this because I just couldn't stop. Enjoy this trash.

Surprisingly and unsurprisingly enough, being killed over and over again becomes boring. You supposed it was inevitable, but you'd think something as thrilling as being trapped in some seperate reality by some all-powerful entity would be at least a  _little_ exciting.

The only thing you could practically look forward to - as macabre as it may sound - were the trials. At least you'll get a little stimulated by the constant risk of getting killed and/or sacrificed, running from ruthless killers and looking out for your teammates... You could even say it was fun, at least compared to just sitting by a fire (that provided shitty lighting and even shittier heat) and waiting for yet another trial to start. 

The others didn't really get it. At least, that's what they let on. They look at you weird when you refuse to do generators and purposefully fuck with the killers. You just didn't  _care_ anymore. You did once, rushing generators and unhooking survivors being your specialty, but your boredom quickly overrode any previous fear or care. It was still  _there,_ you just didn't deem it as important as your unhealthy need for something  _new,_ which probably didn't help your win-lose ratio shine, but at least you would be entertained, even for just a moment. 

You tried to interact with the other survivors, figuring that maybe they could entertain you in some way, maybe make some friends. Unfortunately, your strange and reckless behavior turned them off or something, because your conversations were always short and/or strictly trial related. The most conversation you ever got was orders from them (which you either ignored or carried out - depends on your mood) during trials, outside of trials you were ostricized. Hell, you didn't even know some of their  _names,_ the only way you know the others is through conversations you overhear or when they introduce themselves to at least break  _that_ ice. 

The only one who didn't completely ignore you was Claudette, but she doesn't count because she's nice to  _everyone._ Jake also seemed to tolerate you, sometimes sitting in silence with you or listening to you ramble about random shit, even responding once in a while. He's actually a wonderful listener. 

What you found yourself doing lately was eavesdropping. You'd pretend to fiddle with some items while saddling right behind someone and listen in, trying to find anything interesting. Usually it was just talk about items and theories, or hopeless complaining with a dash of despair, but this time it was different. 

One day (or night, whatever it was in this world), while listening in on Dwight and David talking and trying to mimick David's accent you spot Nea and Claudette slip away from the main spot of the campfire, subtly disappearing behind the many trees of the foggy forest. You, feeling characteristically nosy and bored, decide to abandon your spot on the log to follow them. 

You eventually lost them in the thick fog, and at this realization you curse, not happy to return to the fire empty-handed and turning back. Though you supposed it wouldn't really matter; if you try to wander off you'll eventually return to the fire, no matter how hard you try, this you personally knew... But then a strange sound stops you in your tracks. 

Following these sounds leads you quite the scarring sight: Nea crowding Claudette beneath a tree and shoving her hand in her pants, Claudette muffling her sounds with her hand, Nea whispering something probably meant to be erotic... You recoil in surprise, but, like a total creep, make no move to leave. Nope. Instead, you stand there and watch them desperately rubbing each other off. You aren't really turned on (you were actually incredibly turned off. Claudette was basically everyone's mom at this point, though Nea wasn't really seen as a parental figure, so it's like watching your mom fuck some random chick your age. Yes, you were perfectly aware that you and Claudette were about the same age, but it didn't really change anything.), more like interested. Not interested in this bloody poor shagging - as David would put it, you think - but instead the prospect. Maybe that's what you needed. A good ol' fuck, something to think about later on, you know? Right now, you supposed you were okay with watching this go down, and you briefly wondered who would finish first. 

 _Jesus Christ,_ what the hell was wrong with you? Has being stuck in this endless cycle of boredom and death fucked with your brain somehow? You were truly sick in some way... Of course Claudette would finish first, it just makes sense. 

* * *

Unfortunately you hadn't really thought this through. Thanks to your less-than-glamorous reputation amongst your survivor 'friends,' you were avoided. Surprisingly even you weren't that desperate enough to randomly offer yourself around to see who was willing to get down and dirty with you. You just found it awkward... Well, as much as a creep willing to watch two girls get each other off in the woods could. Your boredom cleverly rationalized that maybe some awkward tension could really shake things up, but you figured that could come later, when you _really_ didn't care about what the others thought about you, which right now you sort of did. Kinda. 

So you did what anyone rational would do. 

Jake was sitting quite the distance from the others today, fiddling with a toolbox. He probably didn't feel like interacting with anyone at the moment, at least more than usual, though he didn't seem too bothered when you approached him and sat next to him. 

"Yo." You greet, and he hums in acknowledgement, honestly more than what he usually gave you, which was just silence. 

You stared into flickering fire as you both settled into comfortable silence, as most of your sessions with Jake usually went. You let your mind wander, thinking about random equations from high school and comparing the height of killers. Michael Myers was pretty tall, but you honestly believe that you could bet safely on the Huntress being taller - if not at least as tall - as him. The Hag was pretty short, but you figured she would probably be a little taller if she wasn't so hunched all the time, and the Trapper and the Wraith were practically the same height; the former being incredibly bulky and the latter just being so lean and tall - 

"Yo Jake, wanna fuck?" You ask suddenly. 

There was no grand reaction to your blunt request, but you're observant enough to see his fingers in his toolbox stop moving. You don't look away from the fire, nor do you move from your comfortable spot on the log. 

Of course, being the generous person you were, you allowed the male to digest what you asked, whistling some random shanty as you awaited the answer you probably weren't going to get. You prepared yourself for rejection or even no response at all, figuring your fragile relationship with Jake could handle this sudden change of pace. Maybe. What was the worst that could happen? Him never speaking to you again? 

Your rare patience inevitably grew short, and you internally sigh, preparing to stand and maybe look for David, maybe show him the accent you've worked so hard to perfect, which admittedly wasn't that good and would probably end with him laughing in your face or something - 

"Why?" He finally says something, and you smile and shrug. 

"Why not, you know?" You hope he knows. 

After another session of silence, he hums again and resumes whatever he was doing in the toolbox. You jumped to the conclusion that he had rejected you and went to stand when he suddenly closes the toolbox and stands, setting it down before beckoning you to follow him into the woods, which you do, trying not to seem as excited as you really were. 

It was... Not that bad, actually. Or maybe it had really been a long time, though you were sure that wasn't the case, or maybe it was both. He wasn't very vocal, as you expected, only making sounds when you did something exceptionally or when you did something wrong and he had to correct you (how could someone fuck up sex, you wonder. Well, if anyone could do it it  _would_ be you, you supposed). Other than that, it didn't last too long nor too short and you did, indeed, ponder on it later on when you were bored and/or horny. Who'd known Jake would be a such a great fuck? The more you know, you guess. 

What made it better was how casual it was. You both still hung out, even if it was in silence. It was mutual, _comfortable_ silence, mind you. If you got so horny you couldn't just masturbate it away (which, surprisingly, you were much hornier than you thought. It was like you had forgotten it existed before you decided to become friends with benefits with your friendly neighborhood saboteur) you went to Jake. And, apparently, he got horny too - what a concept! He'd never say anything, either; he'd just approach you and lead you away from the fire. It was a nice little set up, a nice system of mutualism... Though with how indifferent Jake seemed to it it honestly sometimes felt like commensalism, but who were you to complain, right?

You didn't really get bored of it, but you did want more. You were selfish, what could you say? Jake was fun, but your unending conquest for entertainment demanded you to try harder, and who were you to deny your basic human nature? 

Though you didn't really have solution to your predicament... Until one day. Or night. 

* * *

The Entity couldn't have anymore impeccable timing; literally two minutes after a round with Jake you were thrown into a trial. You spent the first few minutes just trying to stand on wobbly legs and fix your appearance (which honestly wasn't that appealing, though you figured you just get sacrificed and your clothes will get kinda reset thanks to the Entity. Kind of like some demonic wash and dry service, the only thing ever sticking to your clothes being blood and dirt), and that was all the time it took for the killer - whoever it was - to down some poor unfortunate soul. 

You tsk, wondering if you should even help whoever it was, not too thrilled about seeing them react to your messy hair and stains you weren't willing to explain on your clothes. You could hear them scream again, their red aura becoming visible from across the map. As soon as they were hung a generator popped off, and you shrug. Might as well, right? 

You sprint to their location, reaching them shortly. Turns out it was Kate, whimpering and struggling on the hook. You see a familiar contraption on her head and offer her a grimace of pity as you unhook her. "Oof, those things hurt. I'll say thanks to the asshat kind enough to repair the generator while you have that thing on your head for you, yeah?"

She flashes you a less than amused look, prompting you to shrug before walking away, not interested in sticking around to see whether or not she would get that thing off her head or not, more worried about if she noticed the wobble in your legs and your stained shirt...

You spent the majority of the match just wandering the map, occasionally finishing generators that were almost done and unhooking survivors when they needed it (and when you felt like it). You were cleansing some random totem when you saw the killer for the first time in this trial. 

You should've expected it honestly, passing by so many Jigsaw boxes and seeing them on the others' heads, but you still jumped when you saw the crouched figure of the Pig wander by coincidentally. It was sheer luck that prevented it from seeing you; you stood stock still as it passed you, so close you could hear it's breathing from behind the grotesque mask. It was slow, obviously trying to stay hidden from pesky survivors like you, not to stay safe to instead hunt. You used this time to observe it closely, the oppurtunity study the killer not often presenting itself. 

It was then when the greatest revelation of them all revealed itself to you in all of it's shocking, radiant glory: it had  _boobs._

It was enough to almost make you choke on your spit. The Pig was a freaking  _chick._ This whole time you were being downed and killed and stabbed and 'baptized' (as all the cool kids called being killed by the Reverse Bear Traps) by a  _girl._ You don't know why it was so shocking - it wasn't like there wasn't any female killers, it's just that you couldn't believe that this whole time you somehow didn't know until now. 

(Also, in your defense, all the other females somehow made sense. The Huntress was bulky as fuck, and the Nurse didn't even really carry you, instead using some kind of voodoo to pick you up and sling you onto the hook. The Pig was just a regular female from the looks of it, some crazy chick with a pig mask... Carrying you like you weighed nothing. It honestly hurt your ego.)

You searched for any clues in the past that could hint toward this groundbreaking realization, and it suddenly all makes sense: how light she was on her feet, never heard by survivors until it was too late, how she fucking  _squeaks_ when a pallet gets slammed down on her... You truly were an idiot, guilty as charged. You were  _intrigued._

You plans suddenly take a turn as you do something so-incredibly risky and so-incredibly you: when she is a small distance away from you hiding spot you crouch down and try to mimic her pace, doing it surprisingly well;  _The hunter becomes the prey,_ you jokingly think. 

And that was how you spent the trial, trailing behind the killer while she was none the wiser. She'd down survivors and kick generators and break pallets... And you just watched. It must've been quite the sight to the survivors you didn't bother hiding your stalking from. You internally snort as you recall Kate giving you such an incredulous look as she got hooked one last time, successfully sacrificed. Ace grinning and even choking out pained laughter when he's hooked as well... It was different from the usual, it was the most fun you've had in a while, and you already were planning on how to do it in the future, ready to abuse it until it becomes boring, as all things usually did. 

Eventually, all the generators were repaired and the exit gates sounded, startling you out of your new favorite and most unorthodox hobby. The Pig is visibly more agitated at this, reminding you of the fact that she had only sacrificed two survivors so far.  _Eh, not too bad._ You wanted to say. It honestly wasn't - that's, like, two out of four, right? It's most you've ever scored on anything ever, and she always at least manages three people, at least when you were in a trial with her, can't say the same about the trials you  _weren't_ in. 

(The more you think about it the more you realize that must be what irritated her in the first place: not having everyone sacrificed before the third generator is repaired, as she usually did. Look at you, being observant.)

The last survivor (other than you of course) was David. You know this because you saw her hook him, and he somehow didn't see you in return, which was relieving. David had a habit of mouthing off to killers when cornered, so he would've no doubt ratted you out, oblivious to your stalking or not. 

Unfortunately you must've jinxed yourself, because when she inevitably finds David trying to open an exit gate and downs him, carrying him off to a hook and hooking him, his eyes coincidentally flicker to your crouched figure, and his mouth fixes into a crooked grin. 

"Oi, darl! D'ya mind -" 

But then you make a sushing motion with your hands, making him look at you confused but quiet down nonetheless, which was your goal. You do your best to explain the situation to him in sign language that was amateur at best, to explain to him that you had no intention in saving him and risking your plan. Surprisingly he somehow understands, whether it was because you were actually super good at sign language or if your eyes gave it away you didn't know, but either way, when the Entity's claws appear to claim it's third victim of this trial, his eyes widen. 

"What d'ya mean no -!"

Apparently his mind can only focus on one thing at a time, because instead of struggling his hands slip and the Entity is hoisting it's third survivor into the air, his body deteriorating along with the Entity's spiderlike limbs. 

You must've done something to piss off some divine being from up above, because it was at this moment when the killer finally notices you crouched down so close to her you were practically licking at her boots, and she actually  _jumps,_ making you fall back in surprise. 

"Are you  _fucking_ kidding me." You deadpan at David's stupid mouth. You look up at the Pig, who is seemingly staring back, those dead eyes unmoving.

Both of you don't move for a second, but then you break the tension by scrambling to get to your feet, only to have to roll when she pounces towards you, trying to tackle you down but failing. You flip and crawl a small distance, cursing under your breath when she recovers in remarkable speed, unsheathing her bloody blade that was no doubt soon going to be imbedded in your stomach or something. But you honestly didn't care, in fact, you were smiling a smile telltale of your giddiness, thrilled at the prospect of a new struggle. 

You are once again the prey; you always were, you just got lucky, as well as foolish enough to get too close. You finally get on your feet and  _run,_ albeit clumsily and uncoordinated. She is behind you - you could hear her light and sharp footfalls compared to your heavy uneven ones. You purposefully run in a strange pattern and use as many pallets as you can, letting her get too close and slamming it down hard just to hear her shocked squeaks and growls. You would've found it amusing if you weren't running 'for your life.' 

Eventually and inevitably, your luck runs out and your cornered. You've already been hit once, having grown too reckless in your fleeing and allowing her to get a hit on you when you stupidly vaulted when she was close by, and now you had you back to a wall, her figure closing in on your quivering form, your blood forming a puddle around you, that - combined with the most grueling cardio session you've ever had in your life - contributed to sudden lightheadedness that washed over you. You almost stagger. 

But, instead of crying or screaming or begging, you sigh, much to her astonishment, and fall to your knees. "Holy shit, how are you still standing?" You ask through heavy breaths, falling to your side and clutching your bleeding front. "Either you're really fit or I'm just a fatass. Probably both, who am I kidding?"

This isn't the first time you've talked to a killer; sometimes when you are getting taken to a hook you comment on how they smell or ask what their favorite color was or something. Of course, they never answer, but you do it anyway because you're lonely. This was, however, the first time you've spoken to the Pig, because before you honestly didn't care for her much, thinking that was just some psycho who liked wearing slaughtered livestock as masks. Said psycho stands above you with her blade out, ready to end your life. Again. 

"Well, it was fun while it lasted," you dramatically use your free hand to rest it's wrist on your forehead, closing your eyes and sighing wistfully. Might as well go out like a star! "Woe to me! There is a great hole in my heart, leaking out onto the floor below me and letting the Earth know of my sadness!" You gesture to the dripping blade on under her sleeve. "O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die." You lay in wait on the shack's floor, and when nothing happens you open your eyes and look up at her expectantly. "Psst, this is your queue to -"

You don't get to finish your setence, because she suddenly kicks you. It was swift, and by how quick it came and went it shouldn't have hurt, but it did. It hurt like  _hell._

You wheeze as all the air was kicked out of your system, unable to do anything but take it when she kicks you more and more until you curled up, your body forcing you to try to protect yourself while your mind was more than happy for this to happen. 

After what felt like an eternity of her just savagely kicking you she finally stops, breathing heavily from under the pig mask, watching you heave and throw up blood and blood and more blood. You can hardly breathe correctly, but you still flash her a smile. 

"Not a fan...of the stage.... I see." You weakly suggest, and that only seems to agitate her more, because she finally decides to end this, crouching down next to you, lifting her blade into the air... 

"W-wait- oh god wait!" Your pathetic whining must've done something, because she actually listens, her weapon hovering dangerously above your throat. 

"Before you fuckin' kill me... I just have one request..." You finally manage after catching your breath. She doesn't say anything. 

You lay there, heaving on the floor, then you have the audacity to grin toothily at her, blood caking your face and your teeth and  _god_ there was blood  _everywhere_ \- "wanna fuck?"

Her stature slouches, and you don't need to see her face to know that she was exasperated. Then, much to your surprise, the next word weren't uttered by you. "Really?" She deadpans.

You don't let your surprise at her speaking show, "You can keep the mask on if you want to. It's kind of a turn off but I can deal." 

She doesn't do anything, and for a second it almost looks like she was actually considering your offer, then she stands and wipes her long blade on her sleeves. "You're pathetic." 

"And horny. Super horny." You add, going to sit up, grunting when she pushes you back down with her heel, pressing down on your wound for extra punishment, or maybe it was just to hear you squeal. 

"Stay down." The rebellious teenager in you (the side of you you had forgotten to forget as you hovered upon the precipice of adulthood) reared defiantly at her order, prompting you to glare up at her and weakly nudge her foot away, which she allows with a tilt of her pig head. 

"You don't tell me what to do!" You say, going to standing on wobbly legs. 

 

Apparently that wasn't the smart thing to do, because immediately after you stand the lightheadedness comes back ten times as powerful, compelling you to lean forward with a yelp, falling onto the woman.

Okay, you definitely underestimated how strong this woman truly was, because when you unintentionally put all your weight on her she only staggers a bit before growing angry, gripping your arms tightly and even shaking you quite a bit. "Jesus fuck! Get off of me!" Then she throws you onto the floor, allowing you to fall into your blood. Again. 

You whine in pain, then you chuckle weakly, masking your uneasiness with humor, "push me around more, it's hot." 

She snorts in disgust, "You're pathetic." 

You bite your lip suggestively, rolling over and looking up at her with what you hope was a ridiculously sensual expression. "What else am I?"

"Ugh, you're disgusting, repulsive. Get up and stop wasting my time." She growls. 

You didn't know if it was all the blood loss or what, because instead you cutting it out your body grows hotter. You, at first, internally panic, thinking that this probably wasn't there best time to discover a hidden kink, but you couldn't bring yourself stand or even try to move... Okay, maybe that part is because of the blood loss, you're hot because her words are making you hot. 

"The more you degrade me the hotter I get." You sing, watching her rolls her shoulders at your words, but ultimately not move at all. She obviously wanted to say more, but she doesn't, figuring out that it was double edged sword pretty quickly. But, if you were reading her body language right, she wasn't too bothered with degrading you, maybe she was turned on by you submitting to her harsh words... It makes your face hot. 

Maybe all she needed was a little push.

"Okay, here's the deal," you stare up at her, tone almost serious. "I'm gonna bleed out on this floor, and I honestly don't give a single fuck, but just please do me this one solid and help this sick girl live out her sick dream before she dies? It'll be like Make a Wish but a lot hotter and a lot more fucked up." You roll you hip suggestively, ignoring the sharp pain but unable to help the wince.

She actually looks like she was considering it; her shoulders square and her pig mask doesn't ever look away from you. It was almost suffocating knowing that you had her undivided attention.

You shed your serious mask and look up at her pleadingly. "Pretty please? I'll eat you out, I don't give a fuck, just please..." You shudder, "You're a dickhead if you leave me like this." 

And finally, she moves. It's a miracle that she doesn't slash your throat or leave you for dead or something. No, instead, she crouches down and - almost experimentally - reaches out a hand to touch you. Her hand lands on your bare stomach (near your wound) and you bite your lip in anticipation, your nipples hardening when her cold fingers ghost near them. If she took notice she doesn't say anything about it. 

A few minutes were spent like this: you laying on the floor, slowly bleeding out, while the killer above you explores your body with cautious touches. It was almost as if she was studying you, like some ninth grader getting ready to dissect their first frog, and it honestly unsettled you. It turned you on a little bit, but not quick enough for you. 

"Jeez. You're touching my like I'm contagious or something," You watch her stiffen. "Can you stop being such a pussy and actually start trying?"

"U-um, excuse me?" Was that a stutter you heard? "I can just leave and let you bleed out on the floor."

"You won't," you take your chances. 

"I will," she warns, making you groan impatiently, slapping her hand away and going to sit up. 

"What are you doing?"

"Taking of my shirt so you can stop touching me like a scared little girl," you muse, expecting response but getting none as you took of your shirt, throwing it somewhere. The setting was less than comfortable, but at this point you'd fuck in a cemetery, so you didn't mind. 

You lay back down, noticing the way the mask followed your movement. You sigh and take her hands, making her jump. Then you slowly guided them to your breasts, jumping yourself when they finally touched you without fabric in the way. 

"Holy shit, your hands are ice." You complain, making her snort. 

"I am technically dead, you know."

"What do you mean?" 

She pauses for a second, just watching as your hands guided hers on your body, "I was bleeding on the ground when I got stuck here. Kinda like how you are right now."

You could tell it was a sensitive subject, so you decided to quell the sudden seriousness in the air. "Were you also helping someone to grope you and were about to eat them out?"

She makes a sound at your words, disguising it as a cough, "No, not really."

You chuckle, "I'm about to eat out a dead person. I can scratch that off the bucket list."

"... What the fuck." You laugh out loud at that. 

"Okay, enough molesting." You release her hands and weakly paw at her jeans, and she simply watches you try to do the simple thing of pulling down a zipper. "Mama wants to die between those thighs, literally."

She sighs, swatting away your hands and taking care of it herself, "This is definitely the strangest hookup I've ever experienced."

"It's gonna be your best too." You grin triumphantly when the pants come off, though you stop her when she reaches for her panties. "Wait, can you take off your mask for me?" 

She pauses, and you actually, physically, watch her _flinch_. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to feel like I'm fucking a pig?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously, "Don't start getting all shy on me now." 

"I'm not, it's just..." She pauses again, "I've never taken it off."

"Not even when you're alone?"

"No."

"Why?"  _Too much._ She goes quiet. 

"Well, it's fine if you wanna keep it on. I guess I don't mind." You shrug. Wouldn't be the first time you fucked with masks. 

"No, I can... I will take it off." She reaches up, pausing when she finds you staring straight at her. "... It's weird already knowing you put eating out a dead person on your bucket list, I wouldn't be surprised if fucking animals was on it too."

"I wouldn't be too, honestly. My list is everchanging, you know. Plus you'd be surprised what I'd do when I'm h-"

You can't finish your sentence, because when you focus on her again her mask is off, and you finally get to see who was under that mask...

Her skin was slightly pale, but it was colored with faint life and flushed. She had short and messy brown hair that framed her face perfectly, scars littered here and there. And her eyes... They were a milky grey, their shape a sharp almond, but as they were on you they quivered with uneasiness. Uneasiness of what? You didn't know, but you had a faint idea of what it was when expression slowly went from hard to unsure as time went on and you didn't say anything. 

"You look like you've seen a ghost." She says, then she gives you a smile that was actually just a nervous twitch of the lip, but damn if it didn't steal your breath away. 

"Oh my god." You finally manage. Not a good or bad response, because she furrows her eyebrows. 

"'Oh my god?' What does that mean?" Her voice, now that it wasn't hindered by the mask, was a smooth and even tone, and you suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to hear her sing something for you, maybe something jazzy? 

"Dude, your fucking hot." Your words make her pale skin flush even more, and now that her mask was out of the way you could see her look away. "Like, I want you to sit on my face but, like, not at the same time. Because if you do I won't be able to see your face. The price of conflict."

A conflicted emotion flashed on her face. "Thanks?"

"Like, you don't understand." You are grabbing her wrists now, incessantly tugging at her. "Sit on my face right now before I fucking bleed out."

"Oh, wait - Jesus!" She tugs back, only managing to free one hand and somehow getting her panties off. "I didn't even have everything off yet!"

You don't answer, too busy trying to get her to just finally let you eat her out and die in peace. You don't even bother with the weird red coat thing she was wearing; you simply brush it away. 

She finally stands over you, her feet on either side of your face and staring down at you with the most embarrassed expression. You gawk at her core, watching it glisten under no light in particular. You finally tear your eyes away from that beautiful sight to see her watching you, her lips in a straight line. 

"Well, hello? Not getting any younger down here!" You call, watching her bite her lip in uncertainty.

 "I just... Sit down?"

"Yep."

"On your mouth..?"

"Yep. You've done this before, right?"

She furrows her eyebrows again, and you deem that cute expression of confused uncertainty your favorite one. She doesn't say anything - she doesn't have to. 

"Wait, have you ever even gotten eaten out before?"

Her hiding her face in uncharacteristic embarrassment was all the answer you need. "Never really been with a girl before either." You manage to make out from her hiding behind her clothes. 

"Holy shit, it's your lucky day. I'm the fucking queen of cunninlus, do you even know how much pussy I've eaten before I was sucked into this hellhole?"

"You have no shame, Christ." She mutters, making you grin devilishly. 

"... Way more times than you could count on your fingers, that's for sure. Kinda feel bad for you though, because girls who's been on this train say they could find any better cunninlus connoisseur than I!" You claw at her ankles, eyeing her lady bits with a new hunger in your eyes, especially when in drips down her leg as you explained the only thing you've ever actually been good it. Is it sad? Incredibly so. Do you care? Fuck no! "And mama's been starving for so long... Sit on my face already!"

"Jesus, Jesus..." She's muttering under her breath as she slowly lowers down with shaky legs, unintentionally making you wait in tense anticipation for just a taste. 

Finally she's close enough for you lick, which you do to test the waters. You lick her inner thigh, feeling her shake from above you and she adjusted to a comfortable position: her knees were now on either side of your head, not too bent as to smother you, which is what was actually your main goal.

"Wow, you're so wet... Doesn't take much to spur you on, eh?" Your teasing earns you an unhappy squeeze of the legs, which make you feel right at home. 

You put both of your hands on her thighs holding her in place as she quivered and quaked from the simple licks you placed on either thigh. You were teasing yourself as much you were teasing her; you wanted nothing more than to just suffocate yourself in her sweet core, torturing yourself with samples of the main course, wanting her to enjoy it as much as you will. 

You licks turn into soft sucking, then playful nips. She jolts when she feels your teeth on her sensitive inner thigh, accidentally letting a moan before she covers her mouth with her hands. You can't see it, but you could just tell by the way she shifted, making you smile at her shyness even when you were between her legs. 

Enough foreplay, you supposed, but you made sure to remind yourself to not just go ham and to take it slow at first. You almost immediately broke that promise when you finally let yourself languidly lick from under her clit and over her slit. 

She was so sweet, this you immediately took note of. The taste was accompanied with the slightest bit of salt and a tang vaginas always came with... But overral it was just so sweet and utterly _addicting_ , you have to physically stop yourself from going crazy. 

Not to mention the sounds above you... _Oh sweet lord,_ she muffles another groan and her legs go weak for a split second, accidentally smothering you in absolute _paradise_. 

"You taste like fucking candy. I think I'm in heaven." You say from under her, the vibrations making her go weak before she realizes her lack of control and she lifts up again, much to your dismay. 

"Um, excuse me? Sit back down please." You request, and her thighs twitch. Your hands on her thighs pull her back down, and you are once again in heaven, barely hearing her speak. 

"I'm gonna smother you." She warns, voice shaky with a lilt of desire, finally removing her hands from her mouth. 

" _You say that like it's a bad thing_ ," you chastise, which was of course muffled by her vagina and only send vibrations through her, and there goes her hands again, muffling her beautiful voice. 

That just won't do. 

You start off with soft licking and light sucking on the area beneath the clit, slowly but surely coaxing it out with pleasure. At some point you add in very soft humming, not too much stimulation to be too much but instead just enough for the soft hood to finally retract and reveal her sensitive pearl. She gasps from above you. 

Her hands were still on her mouth, bothering you. You slide your own hands upward and grab her elbows, gently unfolding her arms so her hands can rest anywhere but on her mouth, no longer stifling those sweet moans. Now you could pick up things a bit. 

You slowly switch your attention from her slit to her clit, reveling in the way she curls in unexpected pleasure. Perfect. 

You want her to be more vocal, so you pick up your speed, hearing her sounds evolve and go up in volume. You keep this pace until you hear her utter, "More."

It makes you smile, flicking your tongue a little longer before humming once again, this time louder and more aggressively on her clit. It makes her actually kneel her head, her hands scrambling for something to hold to, settling on your chest and softly playing with it. You appreciate it, feeling yourself somehow getting wet despite the dead fatigue that was slowly shrouding you like some sort of blanket. As much as you would love to stay forever you had to die at some point. You're surprised the Entity hadn't made the trial collapse or something, but you were grateful that it had decided not to be a douchebag and interrupt this perfect moment.

You started humming some random shanty and making patterns on her clit, and she moans as a result, her sounds growing louder and more frequent until she began bucking down on your face, stopping immediately when she realizes she is doing so, earning her a sad hum. Your face was buried in her, nose teasing her slit while you sucked and licked at her clit, and you could just how utterly wet she was, just making you wet in return. 

Then, all of a sudden, she releases a particularly loud moan, and she presses down on your face, catching you by surprise and she whines when you accidentally stop. "D-don't stop! It felt..." She's cut off by herself when you continue, curling back and outright panting, and you feel the wetness in your core increase tenfold at her sensitivity, utterly wowed by how much she was. 

A steady stream of "oh, oh," fell from her lips as you continue your pace and do your best to replicate what made her curl. And you suddenly remembered that you both didn't even know each other's name. That simply won't do - you wanted to hear her moan your name with that smooth voice of hers... And you still wanted her to sing you something jazzy. 

You say something, sending particular vibrations that she could somehow discern from your regular song humming, wowing you further when she somehow managing a questioning hum between her panting. 

You let her lighten up on you for a second, just to tell her your name, before you make her smother you again, not bothering to see if she ever caught it or not. 

Apparently she does, because when you pick up where you left off she's chanting your name like some ancient mantra, working wonders on your libido. You do the old but gold method of tracing the ABCs with your tongue, enjoying every jerky movement when you flick your tongue over her pearl. 

 Then, she jumps at a certain letter, and you smirk. That's the one. 

You abuse that letter, increasing and decreasing your aggression, speeding up and slowing down, trying to find that rhythm that would make her positively _squeal_. 

 _Like a little piggy,_ you mused, _I wonder what her name is._

She does absolutely that when you go at a certain pace, her hands on your breasts, squeezing them and making you moan in surprise. " _There_! Like that! _O-Oh_...!" She sings, the dripping and the twitching telltale of her being close. 

You hum, she preens, back arching as you didn't let up your licking and sucking and kissing. Your name kept spilling from her mouth, her moaning and panting increasing in volume, becoming a jumbled staccato.

"Yes, yes, _yes_...!" She cries, "oh _my god,_ I'm gonna...!"

She doesn't continue, she can't continue, because she is kneeling forward, curling her body forward as she is forced silent by her ecstasy. You don't let up your pace. 

She releases one last final cry, one that positively sent _shivers_ running up and down your spine, and her legs tense around your head as she cums, gushing all over your face. 

She falls forward, panting softly and whimpering when you lick her clean, just savoring her taste for masterbation material later. 

You gently coax her legs, moving them away from your face and letting her lay down beside you as she came down from her sweet high. 

There was silence between you two as she recollected herself, then she stands on wobbly legs, picking up her panties and pants and putting them back on with a little trouble. 

" _Wow_. That was great." You finally say, blissfully staring up at the ceiling of the shack. She looks down at you with an incredulous look, and you briefly thought that she really did look like a ghost. A hot ghost. That you ate out. "We should do this more often."

She snorts, but her eyes shined with amusement. She doesn't say anything as she picks up her pig mask, hesitating, looking into it's dead eyes. 

"You sure, eh, live up to your title." She finally says, making you raise an eyebrow. "Cunninlus Connoisseur. I wouldn't mind..." She shrinks under your scrutiny. "Doing... T-that again." 

You smile widely, "Diddo. Sorry for ruining any chance of you enjoying sex with people other than me."

Her shy demeanor is replaced with annoyance, her eyes rolling at your words. Her legs are finally stable, no longer shaking as she gazed down at you. "You're so full of yourself."

"I'm also _super_ horny. You should choke me." You suggest, and to your surprise she crouches down once more, watching you shove a hand in your pants, finally paying attention to your own heat. It was slick, and your cold fingers make you shiver in excitement. 

"You're so fucking _weird_." She mutters, but she's wrapping her fingers around your neck anyway, and she squeezes experimentally. 

It was a little stimulation, the light choking and fingers massaging your clit. You were pretty okay at fingering - at least by your standard - and was looking for a quick relief anyway. 

"Choke me harder," You say, and she grimaces. 

"Aye aye." She says, the pressure increasing enough to have a semi hard time breathing. 

It was strangely intimate in a way, at least as intimate as being choked out could get. You both were staring into each other's eyes, her milky grey now a sharp steel as she gazed into your eyes, seemingly searching for something. What? You didn't know, but knowing that you had her full attention was working wonders for your clit, making it throb and resulting in a strangled moan. 

"You good?" She asks, and you nod weakly. 

You settle into a steady rhythm that was rough and admittedly not all that coordinated, not really looking for a sweet and slow release but instead a rushed and brief one. 

"What's your name?" You somehow manage with her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing and relaxing. 

"Amanda." She answers without fanfare. 

" _Amanda_ ," you repeat, your fingers stuttering as you roughly abuse your clit. "Cool name, dude. You look like Veronica, though. Or maybe Violet."

Maybe it was how lightheaded you were getting that made you sound a little stupid, but you didn't mind when she snorts, her lip twitching upward. "Shut up and just get off."

"Trying to," you grunt, hips canting upwards. "Choke me harder. Like, _actually_ kill me."

"What the hell? Are you crazy?" She asks incredulously, but her hands still squeeze. 

"Yes. It'll be hot." You reply, "It's not like I'm going to  _actually_ die. Though it'd be funny if the Entity suddenly decides to just let me die."

You almost missed how a flash of fear came and went in her eyes, but you didn't know what she could've been afraid of. You weren't going to address it - you couldn't anyway, because when you were about to talk she squeezes harder than before, stealing your breath away. Literally. 

 _Oh_. Your hand, along with her choking you like she had actual murderous intent, work you to a quick orgasm. You could practically feel your face turn blue and your skin turn cold, but the loss of air was nothing compared to how hard your orgasm hit you, making you practically spasm like a dying animal, which you technically were at the moment. 

Dark spots began to appear in your vision as it darkens, the last thing you see is Amanda watching you slowly die with some sort of concern in her eyes, as well as macabre fascination poorly hidden. 

" _Jesus, you're a kinky little fucker, aren't you?_ " You somehow make out, and it puts a smile on your face, accepting the darkness and allowing it to swallow you whole. 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't you just hate it when they know you have the trap on your head but they repair the generator anyway? 
> 
> Stay tuned for a follow up with the weird thing going on between you and Jake. It's gonna be angst, fyi. You truly aren't the best person.


End file.
